C24 —- Hype Always Works Like This

 

The recording schedule for Heartbeat 100% was spaced out — usually one day of shooting followed by two days of rest. This gave the mentors and guests time to handle their own matters, and also allowed the production team to stay up late editing footage.

This way, Jiang Fanxing could also take a break instead of running around for different events every single day. Some unknown small magazines and trashy events did send him invitations, but Shen Tianqing rejected all of them. The plan was to wait until the drama Jiang Fanxing starred in aired, and after he gained more genuine fans, then he’d pick a top-tier magazine to feature him. Trashy events had little exposure anyway, and their studio wasn’t lacking resources in that area.

Knowing that Jiang Fanxing was resting recently, Chen Kele mustered his courage. After checking with Xiao Zhou and finding out Jiang Fanxing was already up by noon, he came over to see him — carrying all sorts of gifts.

“Brother Jiang, um, do you have some time recently?” Chen Kele asked humbly. “If you ever feel bored, would you be willing to give me some guidance on my work?”

Chen Kele was getting the hang of things. The gifts he brought were mostly food and drinks that weren’t fattening. Back when Jiang Fanxing was struggling financially, Chen Kele would just send him money directly. Now that Jiang Fanxing was earning well, he instead gave harmless little things — mainly as a gesture of goodwill.

He had just renewed his contract with the studio for another ten years, meaning he would be working alongside Jiang Fanxing for a long time. Rounding it up, they were practically brothers, so of course he couldn’t act too distant.

Jiang Fanxing glanced at him, picked an apple from the pile, washed it, and took a bite. “Mm, I’ve got nothing to do anyway. Go ahead, let’s hear it.”

“Well, here’s the thing.” Chen Kele pulled up a chair. “I’ve already uploaded around four videos, and each has over ten million likes. But at the same time, a lot of copycat creators are popping up. My likes are still holding, but the downward trend is already obvious. So, brother Shen says it’s about time to reveal my identity. The problem is how to reveal it in a clever way — we’re still discussing it.”

Since revealing his identity would affect his future career, it had to be handled carefully. Fans could love a “male bodhisattva” online, but they might not like an idol who actually tried to be one. It could even seem low-class. Fans admired strength — influencers turned actors or idols already faced disdain, let alone someone who became popular as an internet “male bodhisattva.”

“What’s brother Shen’s idea? Tell me.” Jiang Fanxing became interested. If it were just normal work, he wouldn’t have much advice. But since he had contributed to Chen Kele’s project in the beginning — something that started as a whim but ended up succeeding — he naturally couldn’t just wash his hands of it.

“Brother Shen’s plan is for me to dance in the fifth borderline video and let my side profile flash accidentally. After about two minutes, I’d delete the video. Then let public opinion ferment. After two or three days of hype, I’d step out and admit it myself.”

Chen Kele explained seriously, “During those two or three days, brother Shen will reach out to some professional fan leaders to speak well of me, but he’ll also have some black posts about me released. Once both sides stir up a debate, I’ll apologize and admit it was me. When the questioning continues, my ‘fans’ will then reveal evidence of me donating to charity, shaping me into the image of an idol who ‘doesn’t know how to speak, but can only work hard silently.’”

To put it simply, they were planning to shape Chen Kele into a “little pitiful” character — someone fans would feel protective of, sympathize with, and admire for working so hard without ever getting his chance to shine.

“Besides that, there must be more, right?” Jiang Fanxing listened carefully but didn’t see any problems. “These are all standard marketing and publicity tactics, and the plan is pretty thorough. So, what is it you think isn’t good enough? Or is there something you haven’t said yet?”

“That’s what I was about to say.” Chen Kele rubbed his hair with a troubled look. “This still isn’t enough. Brother Jiang, you know I used to be an idol, and I was in the same group as Qiu Songsheng. Even though I didn’t have many fans, I still had some. And lately, Qiu Songsheng has been really popular. So, whether I like it or not, people are definitely going to tie me to him. Brother Shen says, since we’re going to ride on someone else’s fame, we might as well ride on the biggest wave.”

“Makes sense. Even if you don’t put out press releases, plenty of marketing accounts will still link you two together,” Jiang Fanxing agreed, nodding. “So what part are you unhappy about?”

“Brother Shen wants me to reveal myself in that video — the one where I dance in the mask — by dancing Qiu Songsheng’s debut hit.” Chen Kele spoke gloomily. “On the surface, it would make fans suspect my real identity, while also tying me to Qiu Songsheng. But underneath, it also builds the narrative that Qiu Songsheng is my unreachable goal. I was the nobody in the group, a pitiful little guy forced to make borderline videos just to get close to the brightest star in the group. It’s a way to hype up CP rumors.”

And it would follow the “secret crush” storyline — whether Qiu Songsheng acknowledged it or not didn’t matter.

If Qiu Songsheng responded, his own popularity would explode, and he could stay tied to him for a long time, forcing Qiu Songsheng to cooperate.

If Qiu Songsheng ignored him, it didn’t matter either. His “secretly crushing little pitiful” persona would still hold, earning him more “mom fans,” which would help both with his career transition and with fan data support.

“Wow, has brother Shen… finally leveled up?” Jiang Fanxing’s eyes lit up. “This kind of binding strategy is genius. No matter how Qiu Songsheng reacts, he’s forced to become your stepping stone! How did brother Shen even think of this? I’m honestly impressed.”

At those words, Chen Kele looked straight at Jiang Fanxing.

How did brother Shen think of it? What do you think?

Birds of a feather flocked together.

Before, Shen Tianqing also did marketing and hype, but he leaned more toward straightforward methods: spending money or coming up with his own creative ideas. That was exactly why Qin Shi and Yi Zhu weren’t satisfied with him — they thought the fame they gained came too slowly. Once they got popular, they felt it was their own effort, not Shen Tianqing’s.

But now, Shen Tianqing seemed like he had unlocked some hidden potential. Hype ideas came one after another, so sharp that Chen Kele even suspected brother Shen had been possessed by someone from the future. The scariest part was that even though brother Shen worked overtime every day, his energy only kept improving. He looked more spirited and radiant by the day, like an actor fresh out of a patriotic drama set — almost like he’d gotten cosmetic surgery.

When Chen Kele learned brother Shen was only 29, his heart collapsed.

Work really destroyed people. Brother Shen was actually a handsome, sharp-featured guy, but everyone only remembered him as exhausted and naggy like an old mom. Now that his looks had rejuvenated, Chen Kele could only sigh. If he looked like that, he wouldn’t be stuck as the least popular one in the group.

“Isn’t this pretty good?” Jiang Fanxing had no awareness of being the culprit at all. “By then, not only can you keep the fans from your borderline content, but you can also refine them into a whole new batch of ‘mom fans.’ Isn’t that great?”

“But I really don’t feel good about dragging Qiu Songsheng down like this.” Chen Kele sighed. “Honestly, he’s been quite nice to me. Back in the talent show, lots of people tried every trick to step on others to climb up, but he never did that. He relied purely on his own charm and the full protection of his company. Brother Jiang, you’ve never seen Qiu Songsheng’s stage, have you? Off stage he looks a little silly, but once he’s on stage, he really shines.”

To cut through that many idols and secure a dominant center position, he must have something uniquely his own.

“Brother Jiang, why don’t we drop this plan and go with something else instead?” Chen Kele said.

“There’s no other plan that can give you as quick of a tie to Qiu Songsheng.” Jiang Fanxing thought for a moment. “If you go with brother Shen’s plan, at the very least you’ll bag a ‘breaking’ trending topic on Weibo. If you use something else, it might only be an ordinary hot search. Can you really accept that gap?”

Chen Kele opened his mouth, but in the end didn’t say a word.

“So what you want is to keep the hype but also not completely offend Qiu Songsheng to death. You’re hoping I’ll come up with a way to have it both ways, or maybe you want to use my connections to talk it out with Qiu Songsheng?” With every point Jiang Fanxing made, Chen Kele’s head drooped lower.

“Kele, your mindset’s not there yet. This is just the beginning, you know? In the entertainment circle there are people who leak their own bed photos to climb up, or willingly accept shady rules, or even go under the knife countless times — and even then their efforts might not pay off. But your method is guaranteed to pay off.” Jiang Fanxing patted his shoulder. “You entered the industry earlier than me. How can you still not see this clearly?”

“…Brother Jiang, this is just a normal person’s reaction. It’s people like you, who never once doubt their own decisions, that are truly terrifying.”

“If you can already do borderline stuff, what’s there to be afraid of here?” Jiang Fanxing glared at him. “There’s no such thing as having it both ways. If you really can’t bring yourself to do it, then just give Qiu Songsheng a heads-up. Later, you can apologize. Or when you get more popular, you’ll be doing him a favor by letting him ride your heat.”

“Surpassing him in popularity might be difficult,” Chen Kele muttered.

“Pathetic.” Jiang Fanxing looked at him with disdain. “Call him right now. I’ll give you some courage.”

“Ah? Right now?” Chen Kele froze. No way. The guy was in the middle of filming — how could he just call him out of the blue?

“I’m right here, so you can still get some courage. Later I’m going to bed. I don’t have time to babysit you through this, so hurry up.” Jiang Fanxing glanced at his phone. He was already getting sleepy. His vacation time was precious — he couldn’t waste it like this.

Chen Kele glanced at him, gritted his teeth, and actually dialed Qiu Songsheng’s number.

The ringtone dragged on longer than his life. He already wanted to run away.

Then Jiang Fanxing grabbed him by the collar. “You worked so hard building up those muscles and got results — what are you afraid of now?”

“Hello, Kele, what’s up?” Qiu Songsheng’s voice came through after picking up.

Chen Kele’s breathing instantly felt lighter.

Jiang Fanxing impatiently shoved him forward.

“Captain, I… I want to apologize first. I might end up tying you into some hype, so please don’t be mad.” Forced by Jiang Fanxing, Chen Kele blurted everything out in one breath.

“Ah? That’s all? No problem.” Qiu Songsheng froze for a second, then answered without hesitation. “I thought it was something serious. By the way, the hype you’re planning isn’t illegal, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, then do whatever you want. In our team, plenty of people have used me for hype. It’s not like you’re the only one. Besides, whether it actually works or not is another story.” Qiu Songsheng was even considerate. “But you’d better be prepared to get scolded by my fans if the hype doesn’t land. If the criticism gets too harsh, I can step in and say a word for you.”

“No need to speak up for me. Just… just promise you won’t block me, that’s enough.” Chen Kele said. “Actually… actually I’ve always admired you. I know you beat us all with your real strength.”

Qiu Songsheng went silent for a while.

After quite a pause, he finally said, “Thank you.”

“Go ahead with the hype, I won’t be upset,” Qiu Songsheng continued. “I’ve ridden others’ hype before too. Work hard. Let’s grab a meal sometime, and I’ll even help promote you a bit. No need to be so polite. Our temporary project group is about to disband anyway.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t disturb your filming anymore. Goodbye.” As if letting go of a heavy burden, Chen Kele quickly said goodbye and hung up.

Qiu Songsheng was a little baffled.

“Why did he sound so scared? I didn’t expect Chen Kele to be such an honest guy. It’s just hype and marketing, yet he had to call me specifically about it.” He shook his head helplessly. He had even wanted to ask Jiang Fanxing about his schedule to meet up.

“Xiao Qiu, what did Chen Kele want with you? I think I heard the word ‘hype.’” the acting manager asked curiously.

“Oh, he said he might have a marketing push soon and would drag me into it for hype, so he told me not to be mad.” Qiu Songsheng explained simply. “He’s just too honest, that’s why he never gets popular. Something this small, and he still feels the need to explain it.”

The manager thought about Chen Kele, then even searched him up online. Seeing his looks, he felt reassured. “With his popularity always stuck at the bottom of your group, it’s normal he wants to give it one last shot. But honestly, with his qualifications, it’ll be very hard for him to become popular. I really don’t get why Shen Tianqing signed him.”

Being an idol was already one of the least looks-picky professions — stage makeup worked like plastic surgery. Yet even so, Chen Kele’s appearance was just too plain. Not ugly, but in the entertainment industry he looked ordinary, forgettable, the delicate but bland type.

“Actually, his professional skills are among the best in the group.” Qiu Songsheng thought seriously. “I wonder what kind of hype he’s planning? If it doesn’t work out, maybe we can help him out a bit.”

“Alright, I’ll let the company know. We’ll treat it as giving Shen Tianqing some face.”

“See? Isn’t this simple? He already agreed.” Jiang Fanxing yawned. “That’s it, right? I’m going to sleep.”

“He just underestimates me, he doesn’t know what I’m really going to do next.” Chen Kele let out a long sigh. “What I’m doing is basically no different from lying.”

“Enough already. Qiu Songsheng is an adult, and his whole team are adults too — they can take responsibility for themselves. Since you’ve decided to do it, stop whining. If you’re going to do it, don’t be afraid of what people will say.” Jiang Fanxing was already impatient. “There’s no such thing as having it both ways in this world.”

“Brother Jiang… you and Qiu Songsheng are pretty close, right?” Chen Kele finally couldn’t hold it in. “Aren’t you the least bit guilty about screwing him over like this?”

Jiang Fanxing looked at Chen Kele in surprise.

“Why would I feel guilty? You’re the one riding his popularity, the one doing the marketing hype is Shen Tianqing. At most, I’m just an innocent by-stander. What does any of this have to do with me? I barely even said anything.”

Ah! That familiar buck-passing style—so typically Brother Jiang.

Qiu Songsheng and his team didn’t really take what Chen Kele said to heart. After all, he was the least popular member in the group and didn’t have much in the looks department. What kind of hype could he possibly stir up? What tricks hasn’t the entertainment industry already seen?

But when Chen Kele’s publicity stunt actually dropped, Qiu Songsheng’s whole team’s eyes practically popped out of their heads.

Damn. They had never seen a stunt like this before!

———————————————————————

The blogger “A Cup of Happy Water a Day” had just posted another new borderline-risqué video, and it quickly got pushed to all the followers’ feeds.

To be honest, there had been a lot of similar “edge-of-the-line” videos lately. Although Happy Water’s content was consistently high-quality, most of the other borderline bloggers more or less showed their faces. Happy Water, on the other hand, always stayed completely covered up. People had started speculating: was he actually super ugly and just afraid to show his face?

These kinds of rumors made a lot of fans furious. They would flood the comments with lines like “With a body like this, what more do you want?!” trying to defend him.

But honestly, die-hard fans like Xiao Fei still secretly hoped that Happy Water would one day just show his face and slap the haters in the face.

Still, Happy Water must have his own difficulties. Up until now, he had never revealed his face, nor had he done any product endorsements or taken on any commercial gigs. Even though he was about to break ten million followers, he hadn’t really made much money from it at all.

Xiao Fei sighed. She couldn’t even send him big virtual gifts.

She clicked open Happy Water’s latest video again.

Huh?

This time the video was different from his usual style. In the past, most of his borderline videos had a strong sense of storytelling and atmosphere—subtle hints of sensuality, wrapped in a special kind of aesthetic, leaving plenty of space for the imagination. It was a refined-but-accessible blend of “high art meets popular taste.”

But this video was completely different!

In the clip, a man—only his chin visible—was wearing a semi-see-through white dress shirt and suit pants, and was directly dancing. And the background music sounded very familiar.

Very soon, Xiao Fei recognized it: this was the same song and choreography that Qiu Songsheng had performed to win first place back in the talent show—“Dah Me.”

The song has a very fast tempo and the choreography is extremely complex. After Qiu Songsheng became popular, many bloggers had tried to take on the challenge, but almost none of them could reproduce the same charisma. It’s considered very high-difficulty.

But Happy Water not only could dance it—he danced it really well!

Not only was his timing precise, but unlike Qiu Songsheng’s free-flowing, elegant style, Happy Water’s dance was packed with raw power, as if he was dancing with his whole life. As his movements became more and more intense, the thin white shirt he was wearing started to become soaked through with sweat.

When it hit the climax of the performance, one sharp hip-twist popped a shirt button, revealing a strip of well-defined muscle underneath.

Wow ~ ~

 

Sure enough, it was the familiar “borderline” style—familiar Happy Water.

Xiao Fei was completely entranced. This kind of borderline content also had its own unique allure. If the earlier videos felt like watching a forbidden, taboo-tinged film in a cinema, then this one felt like being teased and provoked non-stop while dancing in a nightclub.

This was a true male bodhisattva.

He knew every style?

Dance harder, pop those buttons off faster!

Ugh, why were the pants made so well too? Shouldn’t they at least be a bit lower quality?

Xiao Fei felt a little unsatisfied. Was there something even she, a VIP member, wasn’t allowed to see? She always gave him likes, comments, shares—the full three-click combo—and had even bought loads of merch from the store. She was a premium customer!

At the end of the dance, Happy Water was panting heavily and reached out to turn off the camera.

But suddenly, the camera seemed to fall over, and for just a split second, a pale, delicate-looking side profile flashed on screen.

Huh???

Xiao Fei froze. Was that Happy Water himself?

She quickly replayed the video, wanting to take a screenshot—but found that it could no longer be played. The message showed it had been deleted.

Shortly after, the account “A Cup of Happy Water a Day” re-uploaded a new dance video. This time, there were no mistakes at the end, and from start to finish, his face was never shown.

No—she hadn’t imagined it. Happy Water must have accidentally uploaded the wrong version earlier. That side profile was definitely him!

Xiao Fei checked the link again and, sure enough, lots of people were already posting about it:

“Holy shit, I’m sure I didn’t imagine it! The video was re-uploaded, but I swear I saw a face before.”

“I only saw it once, and it wasn’t clear—anyone save it? I think I glimpsed Happy Water’s face.”

“I didn’t see it very clearly either, but who the hell said he was ugly? He’s obviously a handsome guy!”

“Damn it, I didn’t get a good look.”

“Aaaaah I want to see too! Did anyone save the original video? The one I’m watching now doesn’t have the part you’re talking about!”

“Help! What did you guys even see??”

…

Because of this mistaken upload, the video quickly hit the trending list. And as fans spread the word, it spilled over into other social media platforms.

“Am I the only one who thinks he looks kinda familiar?”

“Selling the original video, DM me if interested.”

“Who exactly is this borderline influencer who gained ten million followers overnight? Follow my account to find out!”

“Yeah, I think he looks familiar too, but I can’t remember who he reminds me of.”

“I also feel like I’ve seen him before. Weird. Could we all be mistaken?”

“OMG, hurry up and look! Someone saved the original and even posted a screenshot of his side profile!”

“Holy crap, I’m going to check right now!”

…

Countless fans flooded into a certain marketing account.

That account even posted a statement, saying that there was no need to keep DMing him asking to delete the video—he didn’t save the full clip, and only had one screenshot. If Happy Water wanted it gone, he should find someone else.

He even released private DMs showing Happy Water himself begging him to delete it.

Oho. With that, the evidence was conclusive.

The marketing account’s blurry screenshot became even more coveted.

Although it was fuzzy and only showed a side profile, it was still clear enough to tell he was handsome. Nothing else could be made out.

“Weird, Happy Water looks good. Why would he delete it?”

“Is this just hype? Like, he’s pretending to slip up to market himself?”

“Lol, if he wanted hype, he would’ve shown his face long ago. Why go through all this trouble?”

“Exactly. He never accepts ads or sells products. How is that clout-chasing?”

“Um… I used to follow a talent show. I don’t know who this Happy Water is, but honestly, that guy in the screenshot looks a lot like one of my old group members. He’s kind of a washed-up idol.”

“I think so too. But the pic is too blurry—we need something clearer.”

“Pfft. Don’t try to stick your flop idol to our Happy Water for hype.”

“No but… isn’t it a weird coincidence? The flop idol I’m talking about is called Chen Kele. And this blogger’s name is Happy Water.”

“Uh… when you put it like that, it’s kinda creepy.”

“No way. Impossible. Even if he’s flopped, he’s still a legit idol. Why would he film borderline thirst-trap videos?”

“But he really does look similar…”

That very night, the hashtag #ChenKeleIsHappyWater shot straight to the top of the trending list.

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